


What The Brandy Is For

by PlaidAdder



Series: Missing Pages [18]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Knives, M/M, Story: The Adventure of the Illustrious Client
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 03:34:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14782886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlaidAdder/pseuds/PlaidAdder
Summary: September 12, 1902Dear Mr. Holmes,Excuse me taking the liberty but I thought you should know that I done something I promised you years ago never to do. It was all for the client and I think it will be all right for Kitty Winter is not one to spread idle gossip but I did want you to hear it from me first that I told her. That is, I told her the story about how we first met.*****Shinwell "Porky" Johnson tells Kitty Winter the story of how he came to work for Sherlock Holmes.This is written to work as a stand-alone, but it's also part of the "Missing Pages" series. This story, "Contra Mundum," "Tempus Fugit," and "The Cornwall Job" all cover the same events, from different points of view. It doesn't matter too much which order you read them in, though the events described take place shortly after "A Close Shave."





	What The Brandy Is For

September 12, 1902

Dear Mr. Holmes,

Excuse me taking the liberty but I thought you should know that I done something I promised you years ago never to do. It was all for the client and I think it will be all right for Kitty Winter is not one to spread idle gossip but I did want you to hear it from me first that I told her. That is, I told her the story about how we first met.

I had to do it, Mr. Holmes, to get her goodwill. She's spitting mad at Gruner, sir, she'd skin him for a farthing, and I thought it'd be easy enough to get her to come and give you all the low-down. But then you know Mr. Holmes, every ruined girl was a good girl once and don't like to talk about how she was ruined. Even the ones who laugh about it, look at their eyes and you can see they don't mean it. So we was in the snug at the Crossed Arms--just us, mind; wasn't no one else in to listen--and she said I'm ashamed for my life to make a show of myself before a gentleman like Mr. Holmes, the look you see on their faces even if they've asked for your story they don't like getting it, turn up their noses and give you that look that brings on a chill for an hour after. 

So I said now,Kitty, it's not like that with Mr. Holmes, he's not a man to look down on a poor girl who's had a hard time. And I don't know exactly how it happened, but I felt like, if I just told her the story of how we met, it would set her mind at rest, and it's years ago now so what harm. 

So, I says, it was in me salad days, and she laughed and said what kind of salad was that, Porky, and I said well it was a crazy one cause I'd just done my second lag at Parkhurst and I was a mean cur when I come out. Went back to London and tried to look up old chums to see what was going but they was mostly locked up on account of this same Mr. Sherlock Holmes. But then I found old Jarvis and he said he'd heard old Coleridge was looking for an old hand to take on a ticklish sort of job in Cornwall. Well, says I, I'm an old hand and I'm not averse to a little seaside holiday, much obliged if you'd let him know I'm willing. All right, says Jarvis, but there's three blokes already tried this job and it broke all of 'em. But the Porky of them young days, Kitty, I said, he thought he was the hardest bastard in old London Town and so I told him, well it won't break me. 

So then, Kitty, I says, I met with this Coleridge and he says there's a couple toffs in a villa down near Tredannick Wollas that wants killing. Well you know Kitty I never done a murder, but I'd seen plenty and it didn't look like it took any more brains than I got. So I said is there money in it and he names the figure and I thought, Porky, you have landed on your feet and no mistake. Coleridge give me an advance for expenses and we come down on the train to Plymouth and he sent me on to Cornwall and says when you've done the job, Porky, come back and give me a full report.

Well not to beat about the bush, Kitty, says I, I watched the villa for a day to see the comings and goings and it was tough because there weren't any and all the blinds was always down. Night come and I said, well, toffs is not like us Porky but I'm sure they sleep at night all the same. Waited till midnight and then let myself in by the side door. Got it open and this big pail fell on my head, BANG! Jumped nearly out of my skin. Which, I noticed, was covered all over with this sticky white stuff that'd been in the pail.

What was it, Porky? says Kitty. Not vitriol?

No, love, it wasn't vitriol, would I still be here talking to you dear? 

Ah, she says. So what was it then?

It was condensed milk, I says.

Oh, she had a laugh at that, imagining old Porky up to the eyeballs in condensed milk. I says, well, it could have been worse, except now I stank like a dairy in August and I saw, says I, I saw right away it was a sort of an alarm. Like, they'd smell me coming even if they didn't hear me coming. So I have to strip off everything--saving my trousers, Kitty dear, sorry to disappoint--and rinse me hair in the pump which by God was _cold_. Well I was angry after and I'd brought along some piano wire cause Coleridge said quiet as you can and please no mess, we want an easy disposal. But I was thinking well what other surprises might there be here so I just took out my trusty old knife and had it at the ready as I stole up the stairs in me bare feet, quiet as the grave. 

Oh Porky, Kitty says. You tell it just like in the papers.

Well I was proud at that I'll admit so I says to Kitty, I steal up there and I look into the one bedroom and it's empty. Just luggage, have a look at after maybe, see what I could sell. Into the other bedroom and, Kitty, now I hope a girl of your breedin' and delicacy won't be shocked, but the two toffs was in the one bed together asleep, all tangled up, and as far as could be seen without a stitch on.

Oh go on! Kitty said, with a laugh. Come on, Porky, I was never that green. Isn't that what people go to Cornwall for? Their own little private cottage where they can do as they like?

Right you are, Kitty, says I. But now this is the part that's hard to tell so I ask your patience dear. 

You have all my attention, says Kitty.

Well I looked at them sleeping there like babies and I felt a kind of feeling in my stomach and it was hard to say what kind of a feeling it was. I put a hand in my pocket with the piano wire, and I said to myself well this won't do, Porky, you can only do one at a time and I thought about doing one and the other waking up and seeing me doing it and then I knew what that feeling was in my stomach, Kitty.

It was your conscience, Porky, she says, and not like she was taking the piss either, she was in earnest. She's a good girl is Kitty. 

I says, Kitty, it was either my conscience or maybe it was too many pork pies but my stomach definitely said to me loud and clear, no Porky, that's so much worse than the worst you ever done. Try again, Porky. So I look at the trusty old knife and I think, well, I'm strong enough, could I maybe spit both their throats in one go, and my stomach said oh Porky, that's disgusting. So then I thought well what about I go back to the kitchen and get another knife, could I do this two-handed, and now my legs was in it along with my stomach and they was sort of shaky and saying to me, if you take us back down to that kitchen we are NOT coming back up here. 

Well I kind of lifted up the knife to see how my arms felt about it and my shadow must have crossed the two toffs or something cause the one with the dark hair came right awake and he locked eyes with me and he give out a yell fit to curl your hair and he sprang for me.

Sprang, Porky? says Kitty.

Like a panther, Kitty, says I. And you know Kitty, two lags in Parkhurst makes you pretty handy with a knife, but he was a wiry sort of toff and damned if I didn't end up back to the wall with that same carving knife under my throat and the toff fairly hissing into my face and staring at me with eyes like hellfire and I hear the other toff jump out of bed and yell good God Holmes and the toff with the knife to my throat says it's all right Watson, I've got it all under control.

NO, says Kitty, with eyes the size of soup plates.

God's my life, Kitty, says I.

NO, she says again, and puts her hands over her mouth like she's afraid the flies will get in. And that was...and that was Mr. Sherlock Holmes? In the bed with the other toff?

With Dr. Watson, Kitty, yes. Now you promise not to tell, cause I swore I never would. I only told you because you're like family to me.

Well, she says, with her eyes no smaller and her mouth no closer to being shut, what did you DO?

I says, I fainted.

No, she says again, only this time it's more of a whisper.

I fainted, Kitty, true as you're born, says I. Fainted dead away and when I come to I was down in the kitchen with all the spilt milk round me and I was sitting in a chair with the bracelets on me, you know, fastened to it, and the toff with the mustache--

Dr. Watson, says Kitty.

Yes, says I. Dr. Watson is putting a bandage under my chin where the knife kind of grazed me as I fell and sticking it down and I see he's got a black bag next him on the floor and he's wearing a brown dressing gown and while he finishes up Holmes comes down the stairs and he's dressed all in pinstripes and a waistcoat with a watch fob and spats and just like something out of a fashion magazine. And he pulls up a chair and kind of perches in it and he stares at me and he says, we haven't been properly introduced. My name is Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and this is my friend and colleague Doctor Watson.

Sir, I says, very humble-like, sir they never told me it was you, we all thought you was dead, I've had the shock of my life now and if you would be so good as to leave me alive I'll never breathe a word of this to anyone. Mr. Holmes kind of tilts his head and says to me, well you know my name now, why don't you tell us yours?

And I says it's Bob Smith, sir, and he just smiles and says no no, the real one.

Well I thought after all what does it matter and I said it's Porky, sir, Shinwell Johnson on my charge sheet.

He gets this sort of faraway look in his eye and then he comes back and he pulls his chair a bit closer and says, Shinwell Johnson. You were in the organization. And I know what organization he means, course there's only one, and I don't say yes exactly but he knows and then he says, but you're a safe-cracker, Porky. I don't know why but I felt a kind of lump in my throat and I says, that's what I went down for sir, both times, well one was a smash-and-grab, I dabble.

How on earth did you get saddled with this job? said Mr. Holmes. And I said times is hard and my friends is in jail where you put them sir. He says, I suppose they are. And we kind of look at each other a bit and finally Dr. Watson is done washing his hands at the pump and he says, Mr. Johnson, would you like a drink?

Would I, says I, and blamed if he doesn't take out a bottle of brandy and clap it on the table. So they pull me up to it and Mr. Holmes unlocks the bracelets so I can lift my own glass which was decent of him even though Dr. Watson has his hand in the pocket of his dressing gown the way a man does when he doesn't want you to think he's armed. And we just got to talking. And I says I never killed anyone Mr. Holmes but I seen it done and it looked easy enough and Dr. Watson said it's never easy and I said yes sir I can appreciate that now.

So we're maybe a third of the way down the bottle when Mr. Holmes says, Porky, you were an excellent safe-cracker but you will never make an assassin. You have neither the nerve nor the talent. I think you may be right, says I. We must find you another line of work, says Mr. Holmes. Have you considered blackmail?

Blackmail? says I.

Well for instance, says Mr. Holmes, quite friendly-like. With what you've learned just tonight, you could blackmail both Dr. Watson and myself for the rest of our natural lives. That's true, Holmes, says Dr. Watson. And I'm thinking wait now, I could maybe, and then Mr. Holmes says, But I'm afraid we can't allow that, Porky, and so we must come to some other arrangement. And you know, Kitty, how it is when you've had a few, you might think well that doesn't sound quite right but you can't quite put the finger on why, you follow me?

I follow you, you old softy, says she.

Old softy is a bit personal, Kitty, I says, but to show there's no hard feelings I'll just finish my story. Well the long and the short of it was I was to get out of the crime business altogether and go to work for him. I says doing what? and he says, well, you'd be a sort of a spy. I says, I'm not a nark to squeal on my friends, and I sort of blubbered a bit when I said it, and Mr. Holmes said no no, Porky, I don't mean that at all. He says, you're a little fish, Porky. You're a little trout in a big pond full of pike and tench. Now I only angle for the big fish. I might catch the odd trout by accident but I've been known to throw one back now and again, haven't I, Watson?

Once or twice, says Dr. Watson, with a roll of the eyes and a big heavy sigh.

And your friends that you're so concerned about, Porky, your friends are little fish too. But the big fish live off the little fish. So sometimes the little fish might know something about the big fish that might make them easier to catch. You'd be where you've always been, Porky, swimming among the little fish. But you wouldn't have to work for the pike and the tench any more. You'd be finding out all about where the big fish are and what they're planning and how to catch them, and passing that on to me. Your little fish friends will never know; and they'll never feel the hook. But the big fish...SNAP! and he jerked his arm up like he was landing a big one. Dr. Watson laughed and I laughed and I imagined it was Coleridge dangling at the end of that string. Because Coleridge, you see Kitty, had sent me down to Cornwall thinking I was going to rub out a couple of holidaymakers and said nothing about it being Sherlock Bloody Holmes back from the dead and all. So I asked about terms and he said commission for the first month and if you do well after that we'll have you on a five pound a month retainer. Well that's better than I did with the Old Gentleman so I said will you shake on that and he said with pleasure and Dr. Watson got a couple more glasses and we all had one to celebrate.

Now Porky, says Mr. Holmes. Here's your first commission. Tell me who hired you for this job and who he's working for.

So I says, him that hired me goes by Coleridge but that's not his real name. He only calls himself that cause he has a bee in his bonnet about poetry. His real name's Freddy Martins.

Why Coleridge? says Dr. Watson.

Has something to do with him being from Porlock, I says.

Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson kind of look at each other and then Mr. Holmes says, well I knew the man who hired you was either a fool or a saboteur. I didn't quite catch his drift but I was feeling offended by it all the same until Dr. Watson poured me another and Mr. Holmes said and he was with the organization? And I says yes. And Mr. Holmes says, now how did you get here all the way from London? And I says Coleridge brought me down on the train to Plymouth and then I transferred to the and Mr. Holmes said thank you Porky now here's what I want you to do. You don't want to work for Coleridge any more, do you? And I says no sir. So Mr. Holmes says, we'll make it look like you tried and failed. Like you had such a harrowing escape that you'll never come back here again. In fact, he says, when you get back to London, tell everyone what a harrowing escape you had. Make it as sensational as you like. But first, I'm going to send you back to Plymouth.

So the upshot was, they give me train fare and the fee for my first commission and Holmes writes the scariest note he can think of and pins it to my jacket with the trusty old knife and Dr. Watson watches him do it and he comes over and hands me another shiny golden guinea.

A guinea! says Kitty. What for?

Well I asked him that and he said it was my physician's fee. For the exposure therapy. And he and Mr. Holmes I think were having a private little joke there, but to be honest, Kitty, I don't get all their jokes and you most likely won't either. So I went back to Plymouth and laid down and had a snooze on the steps of the office building until the big boss went in as he said and then I hopped a train to London and ever since, Kitty, Mr. Holmes has always been as good as his word. Five pounds on the nail first Friday of the month and never a dirty look. And that's just how it'll be for you, Kitty, I says, if you come with me tonight and do your bit to get Adelbard Gruner wriggling on the hook.

And what do you know, Mr. Holmes, but Kitty put her arms round me and kissed my cheek and said you're a gem, Porky, and I'll come along with you.

It wasn't till we was actually in your sitting room, Mr. Holmes, that I thought of how angry you might be with me if you heard the story get about. So as you has always done right by me, I don't want you should find out from anyone else first. But Kitty can keep a secret, Mr. Holmes. And after all, she's just a poor lost soul like you and me, and not a girl to nark on you just to make a shilling. So I hope come the first Friday we'll be right with each other and I can sit round your fire and drink your health with Dr. Watson just as usual. Don't be hard on me, sir, for it was all for the good of the client, and it's a real pleasure, sir, to think back on them old days and the good old bottle of brandy.

Ever in your debt,

Shinwell "Porky" Johnson

**Author's Note:**

> I had intended to incorporate Porky into "The Cornwall Job" and then I thought to myself, wait a minute, what if this is when Holmes actually converts him, and then that became its own story. Again, though this isn't a Granada universe series, I have to credit the Granada "Illustrious Client" with endearing Porky and Kitty to me; without that i probably wouldn't have wanted to give him his own story. But I did, and here it is.
> 
> I like it that the whole resolution of the Moriarty part of this arc depends, in a way, on Watson offering Porky a drink. It seems to me like the kind of thing that he would do in that situation. Why Doyle thought of brandy as the solution to every medical emergency Holmes and Watson ever encountered, I don't really know. But at least in this story, it allows the three of them to agree to team up to get the big fish. 
> 
> Kitty, obviously, is a character with whom I would have done more if I had more time. But I don't, and she's probably not going to be given any more air time in this saga. For now, anyway.


End file.
